Drug of Choice
by speechless97
Summary: This was like a drug that neither of them could quit. They were like addicts; desperate for that 'one last hit', both knowing full well that it wouldn't be their last.
1. Addiction: Emily

**[This is slightly AU, but this idea has been following me around forever and I had to write it. Hope it's not to OOC! Enjoy (:]**

"_Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol or morphine or idealism."-_Carl Jung 

Emily couldn't sleep. As hard as she tried, as much as she closed her eyes, she could not fall asleep.

It's not like this feeling was unfamiliar to her. She'd never been much of a good sleeper, especially after she joined the BAU.

But the last two months, Emily had slept. Since she'd come back, she had been getting a full night's sleep, every night. Except tonight.

She rolled over, glancing at the clock beside her bed. _Two AM_.

Emily tried to force her eyes to close, but they wouldn't budge. She _could not_ sleep. And she knew why too. Because something was missing.

The warm embrace that she'd come to depend on lately was gone, the chest she'd slept on wasn't there.

She couldn't hear his breathing and feel his reassuring hand around her shoulders.

Suddenly, the room felt much too cold and she shuddered, pulling her blanket closer.

God, she needed him.

As much as she hated to admit it, Emily Prentiss needed someone.

She remembered the first night she'd actually _slept_. It was when Garcia had somehow convinced her to stay at Morgan's place while she 'got back on her feet and all'.

Derek, of course, had said sure. He'd been a complete gentleman, despite his anger at her. He'd placed her bags down in the guest room, told her to make herself at home, and gave her a half-hearted hug as he retreated to his own room.

She had busied herself with taking a shower that night, then by unpacking and re-packing her bags. But eventually, she had to go to sleep. So she lay there, for what seemed like an eternity, until she finally drifted off. The next thing she knew, she was screaming and Derek was standing over her bed, shaking her awake. There were tears on her face and fear in his eyes.

He hadn't asked her what was wrong; he already knew. He just lay down beside her, on top of the covers, and wrapped one arm gently around her, testing for a reaction.

Emily had been surprised at first, but it didn't take long for her to settle into the crook of his arm and close her eyes while he whispered reassurances into her hair.

They stayed like that all night, and when she woke up in the morning, he was gone. He made her coffee, they chatted over breakfast and carpooled to work, just like nothing had happened. Both of them would prefer not to talk about it, so they didn't.

Every night, it would be the same. Their pattern would continue. She would have a nightmare, and he would be there, soothing her, falling asleep by her side. After a couple weeks, he didn't even wait for her nightmares. He would go to sleep with her right away. But always, in the morning, he would be gone when she woke up. Always, they wouldn't talk about it.

But it worked for them. For Emily, especially. She needed it. Somehow, Derek had become like a drug to her, one she didn't want to quit. And it was just literally sleeping with him by her side that she wanted so bad. It was feeling his body pressed up against hers and knowing that somebody in this world _cared_ about her, somebody was there to help her fight her demons.

So, during her first night in her new place, her first night without _him,_ she couldn't sleep.

She got up hesitantly, lightly padding through the empty house into her kitchen.

Sighing as she looked at the coffee-maker, she poured herself a glass of water and sat on the stool near her counter. Why'd she have to pick now to quit caffeine?

Emily looked around the empty room sadly, then looking down at the five lonely boxes on the floor. What would she even fill this place with? Most of her furniture had been thrown out or sold when she 'died'. The few possessions that still remained she wasn't sure she would even keep. They all reminded her too much of Paris, and the life she used to have before the whole Doyle mess. She already thought about it everyday at work – about how the team would probably never be the same. She didn't need reminders at home too.

Taking a sip of her water, she remembered how Morgan had helped her move here. She could still see his face as he put down the last box and handed her the key. Then, she'd told him to keep it, just for emergencies, but more for his own reassurance. He'd said "Of course Em." His tone was playful, his stance ordinary, but his eyes told the truth. His eyes said a goodbye that his words never would.

Yes, they would see each other at work every day. Yes, they would still be partners. But that strange and comforting sleeping ritual they'd developed; that would never continue. And, honestly, Emily didn't know if she would ever sleep again.

So he had walked out the door, giving her a weak smile, leaving her alone with her feelings and an empty house she had no clue how to fill.

Emily took a deep breath and contemplated going to bed again, but she knew that would get her nowhere. So she gave in and pressed the start button on her coffee-maker, putting a spoonful of decaf in.

Then there was a shy knock on her door. Immediately, she spun around, reaching for the gun on her belt, before realizing it wasn't there. But it was just a knock; no need to be paranoid, she thought to herself.

Emily opened the door carefully, taking in the sight before her. There stood Derek Morgan, looking at her with tired eyes.

"I.. I saw your lights were on...", he trailed off, motioning to her kitchen and the light streaming through the tiny window.

She stepped aside, still slightly shell-shocked, and let him in, bolting the door shut behind him.

He side-stepped the boxes and took a seat on one of the bar stools, staring into space.

"I thought you quit caffeine.", he pointed out after a second.

She just shrugged her shoulders, still perplexed to why he was here.

"It's decaf.", she responded.

Derek gave a quick nod as she put in a packet of sugar into her coffee, rummaging around her empty fridge for the milk. She took much longer than usual, stirring her coffee for a good couple minutes.

Emily just couldn't bare to look at him. She knew how well he could read her, and she was afraid he would see the need and desperation in her eyes.

She was sure she'd been standing with her back to him, absentmindedly stirring her coffee, for hours when she felt his hands lightly on her waist, turning her around. Her face must've shown surprise at the touch, but he pulled her into a hug anyway.

And when she was in his arms, she could breathe.

He didn't ask anything, neither of them said a word. Derek just slowly led her to her bed and lay down beside her, just like always.

Emily turned over and looked him in the eyes, questions and doubts almost rolling off her tongue, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It was almost pleading: he needed this too.

This was like a drug that neither of them could quit. They were like addicts; desperate for that 'one last hit', both knowing full well that it wouldn't be.

But Emily didn't care. At that moment, she felt right. Being in his arms felt right; it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

So she closed her eyes within seconds, not worrying about tomorrows and consequences. Not thinking about serial killers and Doyle. She fell asleep, thinking about the now: about her in his arms; right there at that moment, feeling his heart beating and his warm hand around her waist. And she swore she'd never had a better night's sleep in her life.

**[This will most likely be a two-shot, so review if you want me to continue ;)]**


	2. Coming Home: Derek

**[I was going to do a next-morning chapter, but I felt like this story needed a Derek part. So this is the same thing as last chapter, just Derek's POV.**

**Enjoy (:]**

"_There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again." -_Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

Derek closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat, again thinking about what the _hell_ he was doing here.

He contemplated going back home (this was a terrible idea anyway), but he couldn't bring himself to turn the keys in the ignition and leave. He couldn't make himself go back to the house that felt so empty without _her_ in it; the house he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in.

Letting out a breath, he looked across the street to her new place, taking in the dark windows and drawn blinds. _She was asleep_; he told himself. He should be too.

But no, instead he was sitting in his car on her street at two am, trying to summon up the courage to go and ring the doorbell.

Somehow, even being here gave him some type of peace. Seeing her house, knowing that she was safe and sound inside lessened the burden a little. But Derek knew the burden would be much lighter if she was in his arms.

And if he was holding her, he knew he would be able to sleep.

Since she'd 'died', Derek had been having issues in the sleeping department. Every time he closed his eyes, all he would see is her on that warehouse floor, breaths irregular, blood seeping underneath his fingers, her face getting paler by the minute. All he would hear is her weak voice telling him to let her go.

So he just wouldn't sleep. He would drink coffee and busy himself with cases, renovating his properties, and finding Doyle.

The first full night of sleep he'd gotten was probably the first night she was back; the first night she stayed at his place.

He remembered how uncomfortable she looked as he made up the guest room for her and told her goodnight, not being able to fully look her in the eyes.

Then, he'd just grabbed some coffee and sat down in front of his TV, not really watching it at all. He was trying to process all of it. He was somehow trying to get all the anger and resentment and broken trust to go away so he wouldn't take it all out on her – she didn't deserve it.

A couple hours later, he'd heard her scream. Derek was in the guest room in seconds, shaking her awake. Her eyes opened in surprise and he saw the tears on her face and her limbs in a tangled mess between the sheets.

Her breathing was heavy and she looked up at him with apologetic eyes. But there was something else in her eyes too - fear.

Derek could've sworn he'd never seen Emily Prentiss scared in his life. But this – the nightmares, they were scaring her. They were _hurting_ her.

So he did what felt like the most natural thing in the world and climbed gently into the bed next to her, putting one arm around her and squeezing her shoulders.

She'd looked at him with question in her eyes, but he'd somehow kept his gaze from faltering.

If she needed this, he would be here. He would help her.

So he did; every night for two months. He let her fall asleep in the crook of his arm and tightened his grip around her every time he felt her stir. He helped her sleep.

But she helped him too. When he felt her asleep on his chest, when he saw her hair sprawled over him, he knew that she was safe. When Derek physically felt her breathing next to him, he was reassured that she was real – she wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

And that gave him peace. That she was close to him, that this time he could protect her if anything happened. That was why he could finally, for the first time in seven months, _sleep_.

But now, she was gone, and Derek couldn't even bear to close his eyes.

All of a sudden, he saw the lights in her kitchen go on.

He could almost imagine her walking quietly to the kitchen, just to 'get a glass of water'. But she wasn't fooling anyone with that – it had never fooled him. She was going because she, like him, couldn't sleep.

Derek was somehow selfishly comforted the fact that Emily wasn't asleep either.

Yes, it sounded cruel, but it meant that maybe she needed him as much as he needed her. Even if she did though, Derek knew she would never tell him. If Emily Prentiss was good at one thing, it was putting up walls.

So if he wanted this, if he _needed_ this, he would have to make the first move.

He opened the door of his car slowly, letting the cold air hit his face for a second before he stepped out. Somehow, it took him ages longer than usual to close the door and make it to the other side of the street onto her porch.

But eventually, he was there. Derek saw the wind chimes on his left, jingling happily next to the window. He wondered if they were Emily's, or just left by the last occupants of the house.

He'd seen them, he remembered, when he helped Emily carry her things in. He insisted that he help her move, but she protested anyway. Both of them knew though, that it would turn into some form of goodbye.

And it did. As he put the last box down, Emily wore a sad smile and led him out the door. On his way out, Derek had glanced back, finding her looking almost lost, clutching one of the boxes in her arms.

He'd almost gone back to her then. Everything inside him was telling him not to leave her alone in that empty sad house, but his better judgment took over, and he did.

Though somehow, he thought, he would come to regret that decision: regret not going back for her. Damn, maybe he already did.

But there was a line. They had to respect the god-damn line. And, they had to break the habit. It wasn't healthy, for either of them. They had to stop.

He shook his head slightly and raised his hand, knocking on the door quietly. Immediately, he regretted it, but it was too late; Derek could already hear her stirring inside.

She opened the door, surprise written all over her face. She wore sweatpants, which he immediately recognized as a pair of his he'd given her to sleep in, and a tank top. Her hair was up in a destroyed ponytail, and there were major dark circles under her eyes.

"Uh- I... I saw your lights were on...", he sputtered out. God, was that the _best_ he could come up with? Derek couldn't remember when anyone else had ever had him so tongue-tied. But that was Emily for you. She wasn't _like_ anyone else.

She nodded, almost numbly, and stepped aside to let him in.

Derek walked over to her counter, and sat down on the bar stool, taking in the surroundings. The boxes were on the floor where he'd left them; she hadn't unpacked. There was a glass of water on her counter, and the coffee-maker was running loudly.

"I thought you quit caffeine."

She shrugged her shoulders, turning around and looking for something in her cupboard, adding "It's decaf."

Derek watched as she slowly got the milk out of her fridge, stirring it into her coffee for what seemed like an eternity.

And in that moment, she looked so small and fragile. It looked like she would fall apart at any moment. So Derek somehow summoned up the guts to go up behind her and gently touch her on the waist.

Her face was full of surprise as she turned around, but she fell into his arms almost immediately. It was natural for them, it was easy.

He breathed in the familiar scent of her hair and closed his eyes in contentment.

Derek took her by the hand and led her in her bedroom, lying down beside her on the bed.

He caved, because he needed this. They both did.

This was like a drug for them. _But just one more time couldn't hurt, right?_

She turned her face towards his and opened her mouth, like she was about to say something. Derek could practically hear all the rational, correct things she wanted to say in his head. But then she just closed it and let her head fall onto his chest.

Derek felt the familiar weight on him, he felt her soft skin brushing up against his, and he swore he was home. _This_ was home: her, in his arms. No matter how many properties he renovated and tried to make homey and perfect, they would never feel as perfect as this. He would never feel the mixture of relief and happiness this brought him: having her by his side.

So Derek put all the thoughts about how _wrong_ this was in the back of his mind. Because he could ignore it, just for one night, couldn't he? He could let it go, because here, with her, he would sleep. And god knows he needed the rest.

**[So I think I might add a morning chapter, and maybe a couple more, but I'm not sure. What do you think? Review please (;]**


	3. Building Bridges: Emily

**[Thank you for all the reviews (:**

**Here's the next chapter, in Emily's POV.**

**Enjoy.]**

"_People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges." __-_Joseph F Newton

Emily woke up to the sunlight hitting her face and making a warm glow around the room.

She lay there sleepily for a couple minutes before realizing a hand was still resting around her waist. _He was still there_.

She ran through it in her head; he'd always left before she woke up. It helped them avoid the awkwardness of the situation. But not today.

Maybe he was asleep, she told herself. But, somehow, she knew that he was not.

So there they were, two people who knew each other better than they knew themselves; lying awkwardly in bed together, facing different directions, neither quite willing to turn around and face reality.

Sergio jumped up onto the bed, making soft pat-pat noises on the sheets as he crawled into Emily's arms and settled down there. She just sat up slightly, still not quite facing Derek, and patted the cat's head.

She heard a low chuckle which caused her to turn around, finally making eye contact with him. And she immediately regretted it.

Things between them had never been tense or awkward. They were always easy-going and comfortable. He was probably one of the only people she _wasn't _awkward around.

And she couldn't help thinking that they had just ruined that.

He looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised, face questioning. He was asking exactly what was on her mind: _Where do we go from here?_

They hadn't done anything, she tried to convince herself. Well, they hadn't. They didn't have sex, they didn't date. They'd just slept by each others side. It was harmless, really.

But now they both knew how much they needed each other. And honestly, she didn't know what that meant.

"Hey Emily.", he suddenly said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"What?", she responded.

He opened his mouth to speak, and she held her breath.

She knew Derek Morgan, and what he would say next would undoubtedly be what he wanted.

He wasn't one to send mixed signals and wait for the right time: that was her. He would get it all out in the open, no matter how bad it was. So she looked anxiously at him, awaiting his response.

But all that came was "Never mind."

And Emily's mouth almost dropped open in surprise. Because Derek Morgan wasn't one to chicken out either, and that was exactly what he'd just done.

She stared into his eyes in shock for a second, the awkwardness laying like a heavy blanket on top of them. But then Sergio meowed, and it seemed to pull both of them into reality.

"I'm.. I- I better go...", he said, getting off the bed lightly, pulling his shirt on in the process.

Emily nodded, avoiding his eyes.

It wasn't until she heard his footsteps leave the room that she looked up. She saw the other side of the bed, which was now empty. All of a sudden, she felt much colder and sadder. The sunlight no longer seemed to be radiating in the room, and the warm feeling she'd woken up with was far gone, replaced instead with a sad emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

Sergio meowed again then, looking up at her with his emerald eyes. They looked accusing, as if he knew how much of a coward she was being.

Emily knew how happy Derek could make her. He knew it too. And it seemed like they were both just lying to themselves.

But Emily hadn't needed anyone in as long as she could remember. But now, she needed him, and it was terrifying. And Emily was afraid, as stupid as it sounds, to be happy. Every single time she'd been genuinely happy in her life, it wouldn't last.

There would always be a grace period where she felt like she was on top of the world, but that never lasted long. Then, it would all shatter, and she would be left in an even worse state then before.

Emily would _always _self-destruct.

She would think about how it couldn't possibly last; she would antagonize herself to the point where she ruined it.

And she knew that it would happen with Derek too.

He _could_ make her happy, but eventually it would end - her own mind would mess it up. And she was sure one more heartbreak would shatter her completely.

She didn't want to hurt Derek either. She knew she would. And he was a good guy; one of the best she knew. He deserved someone better. Someone not as broken, someone with not as much baggage.

She knew all this; she tried to convince herself of it and move on, but there was a part of her that still longed for him. There was a young, naïve part that thought that all she had to do was tell him, and they would get their happy ending.

But this wasn't a fairytale, and Emily was damn sure she wasn't the princess who got her happily ever after. She was just the woman who'd spent her whole life trying to get out of her mother's shadow.

Sighing, Emily got up and attempted to forget. She showered, got dressed and ate breakfast, just like any other day. She fed Sergio and locked her door on the way out of the house.

But then as she was just sitting in her car, like an idiot, she realized that she had nowhere to go. Of course, there wasn't a case when she needed one.

There was always work when she had plans; when all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep for ages. But now, when what she wanted most was to have her mind somewhere else – there was nothing.

She would've loved to have something else in her head – a profile, a body, a serial killer – anything.

Those things she could deal with. She did, every day. It was her job, and she was damn good at it.

Feelings, however, that was her weakness. And exactly when she wanted to slip back into something familiar, the stupid _feelings_ got in the way – feelings she had no idea how to even deal with.

Emily took out her phone again, checking for a call from Penelope. But instead, she found a text from Derek:

_Em, I'm sorry..._

_I'm here if you want to talk about this. Always._

Of course. He was just the kind of guy to apologize for something that was obviously both of their faults. He just made everyone around him feel better; no matter the cost.

Emily read the words over a couple times in her head. She could almost remember all the times he'd said that to her:_ Always._

And she knew it was true: he would be there, whenever she needed him. That was just Derek; he offered her a shoulder to lean on, but he didn't impose. He told her he was there for her, but he knew that she might not want to tell him. He respected that, he didn't push. He understood.

And she asked herself, once again, why she kept pushing him away.

They say people are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges. If that was so, then Emily's heart was surrounded by giant stone walls, because she needed someone.

But that someone was right there; he was her best friend. All she had to do was tell him.

So with that thought, she started the car and turned out of her driveway.

**[Leave me a review if you want me to continue?**

**Next chapter will probably be the same, just Derek's POV]**


	4. Limbo: Derek

**[Sorry for the delay guys, I have midterms :(**

**Enjoy!]**

"_The indefinable space between happy and sad is the most moving and compelling place for anyone to be. If there's anything we consistently strive for, it's a melancholy limbo."_ -Shawn Colvin

Derek opened his eyes, and he smiled. Almost instantaneously.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up with a genuine smile on his face. It's not like he wasn't happy; he was. But every morning he would wake up with worries and guilt. He would think about the people he could've saved, the killers he could've caught. He would think of _her_ – the person he wished he could've saved the most.

But that morning, he woke up with a smile. The first thought that came to his mind was that she looked beautiful when she slept.

Her hair was sprawled over the pillow, her long eyelashes grazing her cheeks. Her mouth was curved into a small smile, and he wondered what she was dreaming about.

She looked so peaceful. The worry lines that were usually settled into her face were not there, the dark circles under her eyes almost gone.

All of a sudden, he felt her stir, and he knew she was awake.

Neither of them moved though, and he knew Emily wouldn't say anything. He couldn't blame her – this was sufficiently awkward already.

They had crossed a line, and Derek didn't know what that meant for them.

Suddenly, he saw a swish of black, and Sergio was on the bed, making his way over to Emily.

Derek saw as she shifted slightly, making room for the cat on her lap.

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at that. Sergio had missed her too. Derek remembered all the times he'd been at Garcia's and seen the cat sulking silently in the corner, not touching any of his food.

Emily turned her head towards him, her gaze locking on his for what seemed like an eternity.

He knew what both of them were thinking. _What had they done? _They had always been so easygoing together. Right from the start it seems, they clicked and fell into a comfortable pattern.

They knew each other, they trusted. Derek knew what her exact move would be in any given situation. People's lives depended on them working well together - they couldn't let emotions get in the way of what had come so easily. They just couldn't.

And yet, they had. They'd let their need, their stupid feelings, get in the way of the job; and Derek had sworn he'd never let that happen.

"Hey Emily.", the words slipped out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing.

"What?", she responded, looking at him expectantly.

Derek just opened his mouth. He didn't know what he wanted to say. Yeah, he knew what he _needed _to. He needed to say that they had to stop, that whatever they were doing couldn't mess up their partnership.

But instead, he just said "Never mind."

Derek couldn't tell her that this was wrong. He'd always gone with his gut, and right then it was telling him to go for it - to be happy. He just couldn't ignore his instinct.

But he knew he wouldn't tell her how he felt. So he just left it the way it was – awkward conversations and showing up at her doorstep in the middle of the night. He didn't tell her because he didn't want to scare her, he didn't want the team to find out and have to transfer one of them out. And he didn't say that they should stop, because he couldn't. He was addicted to her – to this. So there he was, just stuck in what seemed like limbo.

Emily just stared at him with her mouth slightly open, like she couldn't believe what he'd just said.

Sergio meowed then, and Derek finally broke eye contact.

"I'm.. I- I better go...", he said, looking around the room, finally spotting his shirt on a nearby chair. He didn't even remember taking it off.

Throwing it over his head, he saw her nod and retreated awkwardly out of her room into the hallway without so much as a goodbye.

He quietly shut the door behind him and stood there, looking out at her street – at his car parked on the side of the road.

Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sense of d_éjà vu__. _

_He'd been here before, in this same exact situation. He'd already left her once, not telling her how he felt. And he felt like the biggest coward as he got into his car and drove away for the second time._

_He didn't know what he was afraid of. They could be so happy together. _

_Maybe he was scared of ruining what they had._

_Maybe it was her rejection – he knew she might say no. There was always a chance with her; she had been unpredictable from the day he met her. He'd liked to think he had her figured out, but he could never be sure._

_Maybe it was fear of messing up the job. He didn't want to break up the team, and if anything happened between them, he knew that would be a possibility. He didn't want to be distracted either. People would die if he was worried about Emily in the field more than he already was. _

_Plus, the job was important to him – it was what he lived for._

_The people he saved were a way for him to get by; to survive when it felt like the whole world was falling apart. He was making the world a better place, he had to believe that. ___He was making his dad proud.__

_But at the end of the day, the job wouldn't make him happy._

_The job wouldn't get him a family, wouldn't get him kids of his own._

_Derek envisioned himself just like Rossi in twenty years – alone, still doing the job he'd sworn was just a stage in his career. He didn't want to end up an old man with no children and too many regrets - he already had enough of those. He needed to take this chance; he wanted to truly be happy._

_But as he sat in his car in his driveway, he didn't go back._

_So he pulled out his phone, typing a text to her instead. He erased it, reworded, and erased again countless times before he just settled for an apology and his usual reassurance._

_Em, I'm sorry..._

__I'm here if you want to talk about this. Always.__

_He didn't quite know what he was sorry for._

_Maybe it was for coming last night, or for starting this all those months ago._

_Maybe it was for chickening out and not saying what he wanted to that morning._

_Either way, it seemed right. So he pressed send._

_He really should've been over there, telling her face to face. They should be sitting and working this out, like adults. _

_But they weren't. They were sending mixed signals and not thinking about the consequences, just like stupid teenagers._

_And Derek tried to convince himself that he wasn't telling her because he didn't want to impose, because she wasn't ready. But that was bullshit; even he knew it. Yet he tried to convince himself it was true, probably because he didn't want to face the truth: he was afraid. Afraid of taking a chance._

_**[Review and tell me what you thought?**_

_**Also, I have a couple idea of where I want to take this story, but I'm not convinced yet...**_

_**So if you guys have any suggestions on where you want this story to go, please please please feel free to PM me or leave it in the review :)]**_


	5. Waiting: Derek

**[Sorry for the delay guys, but here you go, this is probably the last chapter (in Derek's POV), but I might do one in Emily's POV too... Not sure yet. Enjoy (:]**

"_Love isn't finding a perfect person. It's seeing an imperfect person perfectly." _-Sam Keen

Derek just stood there, on his own doorstep, waiting for her to say something.

He didn't think she'd show up. Honestly, he was surprised that she did. Of course, he would always offer her his shoulder to lean on, but she had never taken it – well, not directly at least.

It would always end up with them 'accidentally' meeting somewhere. She would let out all that she needed to and he would listen. Then, they would walk away and pretend like it never happened.

But she would never actually come to his house to talk. That just wasn't what Emily did.

So the first thought that came to his mind when he saw her standing outside his house was that something was wrong.

But then, he opened the door, and just stood there. Both of them did.

What seemed like an eternity later, Emily finally cleared her throat.

"You said you were here if I wanted to talk?", she said, her voice breaking a little on the last word.

All Derek could do was nod as he stepped aside and let her in, watching as she greeted Clooney. The dog wagged his tail and licked her hand – he'd missed her, just like Derek had.

Clooney had grown accustomed to having her around the last two months. At first, he was wary, mostly because he didn't do so well with females. But eventually, he had come to love her.

"Hey buddy.", she muttered, scratching his ear.

Derek just watched for a second, smiling contently.

"Do you want coffee, anything?", he said.

She half-laughed, looking up at him. "Morgan, I practically free-loaded off of you here for two months, you don't have to treat me like a guest."

He smiled at her comment and went to sit on the couch. Emily just walked around the room, looking at the surroundings, as if looking to see what had changed. But Derek knew she was just trying to put off the conversation at hand as long as possible. But honestly, so was he.

"Hey Em, I recorded The Godfather yesterday.", he tried to lighten the mood, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You didn't!", she turned around and was on the couch in seconds.

"I haven't seen this in ages!", she added as he turned the TV on.

He couldn't help but smile – these were the moments he'd missed with her. Not the awkward conversations and stupid late night phone calls. He'd missed this – just hanging out with her, watching movies and seeing her relaxed and happy.

"And I know you've got a little thing for Al Pacino, Princess."

She laughed, but looked at him pointedly. "Hey, hey don't judge.", she said as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

Somehow, by the middle of the movie when Clooney started barking, they were both laying down, her head resting contently on his chest.

She, of course, hearing the noise, moved immediately and the warmth pressed up against Derek's body disappeared. He tore his eyes away from the screen and looked over to her. She wasn't watching either.

"You were right, this is definitely Marlon Brando's best movie.", Derek said, trying desperately to lighten the mood again.

But Emily didn't respond – she just kept staring out the window.

"Em?"

She turned towards him slowly, her eyes locking on his.

"Derek; this, us, I don't know where it's going and I... I need to know.", she almost sputtered out.

He just rubbed his hands over his head, looking at the floor.

What was he supposed to say? He could say what he was really feeling – he could tell her that he needed her and that he desperately wanted to start something with her. But he didn't know how she would react. He was afraid she would just shut down and he would lose all the progress he had made.

Or he could say the right thing – that they needed to stop, that they had to be professional.

But he didn't want to do that either. He couldn't. And some part of him wondered if maybe she was here because she wanted this too.

But, cowardly as it was, he didn't answer. He left it up to her.

"Where do you want this to be going?"

Emily bit her lip and looked down, as if contemplating something.

After a couple seconds, she looked up again, her eyes glazed with tears.

Shit, he had made her cry. He had never made her cry before, and he wasn't about to start.

"Emily, look -", he started, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand, already getting up and starting for the door.

"No, let me finish.", he said. Anything to stop her from walking out again.

She turned around, taking a shaky breath in.

"I want this, Emily. This, us. When you – when you were gone, I didn't sleep. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing you in that warehouse, dying. It haunted me everyday."

He attempted to ignore her hurt expression and carried on. "And then, when you came back, I had all these feelings that I had no idea how to deal with. But the one thing I knew was that I couldn't let you out of my sight. I was scared it would happen again- that I would lose you again. So I kept you close for two months, and honestly, it was the best two months I've had in a long time. So when you moved out, I felt like a huge chunk of me was missing. It wasn't the same, and I had this feeling in my chest – this need to protect you and know where you are. And I didn't know what it was, I was trying to figure it out, but I think I just did... I'm in love with you Emily. And I want this to work, I want you to give this a chance.", he finished, searching her face desperately for some kind of sign.

Just seconds later, it came, in the form of tears rolling down her cheeks.

Immediately, he started on his apology. All the sorry's and regrets almost came rolling off his tongue, but she stopped them with a wave of her hand.

"No, Derek, I- I'm not- I want this too, I think.", she said, looking around, as if the answer would magically jump out at her.

Derek had never seen her so confused. She was always so confident as to what would come next, to what she needed to do. Seeing her so lost threw him off balance more than he already was.

She breathed out, trying to compose herself. "I want this, us, at least I think I do... But I'm not sure I can make this work... Every time you touch me, there's still that sense of paralyzing fear that it's Ian, and I just can't seem to shake that. Even though he's gone, I'm still terrified of him, I'm still _his_. I don't think I'm ready for anything... and you deserve someone better Derek."

He just stared at her for a moment._ This_ was what her hesitation was about? She thought she wasn't _good enough_ for him?

"Emily, listen to me. You are good enough. For me, and for any man. What that bastard did to you was not your fault, you did your job and you put him behind bars. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

She looked up at him with shining eyes, and her mouth twitched into a little half smile. But Derek could see the disbelief hidden in her dark eyes.

"And if you're not ready, I'll wait. If you want this, I'll wait."

"Really?", she said, hopefully. Like she was surprised anyone cared enough to wait. But Derek did. He always had.

"As long as it takes.", he responded, with absolution in his voice.

She fell into his arms then, whispering a thank you into his chest, and he hugged her tight.

He would wait, forever, if that's what it took. This was enough for him, for now.

She was his drug, and he wasn't planning on quitting anytime soon.

**[Tell me what you thought! I know it wasn't really a perfect happily ever after, but perfect's so unrealistic...**

**Reviews make my day!]**


End file.
